


tucked between bedcovers

by gabriphales



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Breathplay, Consensual Kink, Consensual Somnophilia, Fear Play, M/M, Mild Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Verbal Humiliation, gabriels a meanie in this one so if thats not ur thing u have been warned, this is disgusting im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23502343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: he has to do this, has to settle himself over aziraphale and peel his legs apart. sticky sweet between his thighs, the skin there coated in warm, wet slick. cooling as air wafted over newly exposed flesh, and making aziraphale shiver.he doesn't wake. not yet, hopefully not for the rest of the night.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	tucked between bedcovers

**Author's Note:**

> pls note everything that happens is consensual!! within the boundaries of pre-discussed play that both az n gabe are comfy with

gabriel can't help it.

he has to do this, has to settle himself over aziraphale and peel his legs apart. sticky sweet between his thighs, the skin there coated in warm, wet slick. cooling as air wafted over newly exposed flesh, and making aziraphale shiver.

he doesn't wake. not yet, hopefully not for the rest of the night.

gabriel loves having him like this. open and pliant, quiet apart from the soft, breathless sounds he makes every time gabriel indulges his wants, his _needs_.

two fingers tuck under the length of aziraphale's nightgown. and everything's silent, silent for as long as gabriel will allow. he takes his time with it. skirting up the trail of aziraphale's leg, and savoring the ample squish of his thigh once he gets there. squeezing gently, carefully--just short of enough to stir aziraphale from his sleep.

his fingers slip through aziraphale's folds. dragging leisurely across the slit, all the way up to toy with his clitoris. pointer and thumb centering in around it, rubbing, nearly pinching--it makes aziraphale _squirm_.

"so cute," gabriel mutters to nobody but himself. voice low, drawn in on itself, watchful of his volume.

"you'll like this, alright? so just stay calm." he coos, knowing the words would barely break though aziraphale's drowsy, discombobulated state, even if he _did_ wake up. he doesn't, of course. gabriel's far too careful for that to happen.

he rubs his fingers over aziraphale's hole. something gushes across the tips, a new wave of heady arousal, and gabriel can't resist the urge to plunge inside right then and there. knuckle deep, twisting against someplace hot and oversensitive, sweltering. aziraphale flinches, and he's about to wake up, he's about to--

gabriel shoves a palm over his mouth. his fluttering eyelids draw back, and for a second, just a split second, aziraphale's face flashes over with panic. his awareness settles in, he calms again, and gabriel shushes him the whole while. sweetly crooning, kissing up the sides of his temples, and the fat of his cheeks.

"mmh-- _mmph!_ " aziraphale lets out a warbled cry. lower lip quivering hard enough for gabriel to feel it. soft skin on skin, overheated in the best imaginable way.

"shh, go back to sleep." gabriel tells him. "just wanna play with you, that's all."

aziraphale's cunt squeezes tight around his fingers, a sharp, sudden contraction as more slick gushes forwards. gabriel reckons his hand must be covered in it at this point. 

"come on," he says, pulling his fingers back, and wiping them dry on a sofa cushion. "you're so good at following orders, i only need you to sleep, sweetheart. be good, be good for me, and go to sleep."

his right hand, now delightfully free, reaches forward to pinch at aziraphale's nose as well. all airways effectively blocked off, aziraphale starts to squirm. an instinctual struggle, played up for gabriel's sake. he doesn't need air, doesn't even really need a heartbeat (though he quite likes the tender warmth of blood surging through his veins when he gets excited, and that silky soft flutter rocking in his chest). but he knows, he knows what gabriel wants of him.

gradually, he lets himself go quiet. eyes glazing over, drooping half-lidded. he exhales, a hot, tired pulse against gabriel's hand. and he can hear, even as he pretends to drift back into his exhausted languor, he can hear gabriel speaking. speaking to _him_ , more precisely. and his voice is so low, saturated with a warm, loving sort of condescending flavor, that aziraphale might pass out from it alone.

"that's it, that's right lovely. don't be scared, all you're gonna do is fall asleep, yeah? feels nice, doesn't it? i knew it would." he cakes on the patronizing comfort in undeniable myriad. aziraphale loves it, he _loves_. simply _adores_ being treated like a hole to fuck, a toy that has to be talked into submission. the idea of gabriel using him like this--vulnerable, unconscious, yet still receptive to every last thing indulged with his body--well, that's an irresistible delight. a temptation no demon's wiles could compare to. excluding crowley's, of course.

"god, you're so _cute_ when you're sleeping. makes me just want to--"

without another word, he slams inside. gabriel's cock tears into aziraphale. all the hazy white atmosphere of a sleepy, leisured fuck gone within seconds. he's not gentle, _definitely_ not gentle as he sinks himself down to the base. full and thick, and entirely conscious of his size all the while. he knows it'll hurt, he _wants_ it to hurt. 

aziraphale holds back a whimper at the simple prospect.

"fuck, you're tight. probably wouldn't stop crying if i fucked you like this while you were awake, yeah?" gabriel's tone is baptized in the sort of humiliating fervor hell's greatest could only dream of. he bucks his hips, just a short, subtle movement. aimed with the sole intent of seeing aziraphale flinch again, feeling his cunt spasm around him. it works.

"you're already so damn whiny all the time. _please, gabriel, it's too much--i can't, i can't--you're too big._ some fucking slut you are, can't even take cock without crying about it." he spits out the words more than he speaks them, and aziraphale shivers with it. shivers with the shame he knows is unavoidable, the embarrassment. the slight tinge of guilt laying blissful on his shoulders, weighing him down, keeping him still right where he lays.

"no wonder your crowley never fucked you. you're a little brat, aziraphale. he probably knew you wouldn't stop sobbing, you'd get him caught. smart demon, i have to question why he kept chasing after a ditz like you."

and aziraphale can't take it, he has to do something, say something, make his remorse known. admittedly, it's all play. crowley and he had fucked numerous times before gabriel came into the picture. he's just saying what he knows will get aziraphale riled up even more. and he's right, he's right about this one.

"'m sorry," he mumbles, sweetly stifled into gabriel's palm. gabriel pulls his hands away then, instead using them to dig his fingers, thick and unyielding, into the meat of aziraphale's thighs. still fucking him ruthlessly as he pushes his legs back, stretches his muscles to the length of what they can endure. 

like this, he's got an even better angle, driving into aziraphale's g-spot with every vicious snap of his hips. his grin remains laced with sadistic splendor when aziraphale whimpers for him, pitiful, and clearly pained. 

"awake again, sweetheart? you really don't know what's good for you." his voice edges around the lilt of a growl. rough, cruel, a threat without need for any heightened volume. and indeed, what a _threat_ it is. the perfect precursor to aziraphale having three fingers shoved down his throat in eager, perfect synchronicity. he gags on them. his whole body jumping as he splutters, starts to choke, all with a cock still plunging wildly inside of him.

"shh, it's alright, aziraphale, you're alright." gabriel puts on a fine mockery of comfort. his middle finger traces over a spot in the back of aziraphale's mouth that makes him tremble. just off to the side of his gag reflex, as if making him _wait_ for it. forced to stew in anticipation.

"let it all out, darling. that's it, you're so pretty when you cry." 

and aziraphale, quite distantly, forms the vague realization that he is, indeed, crying. his own tears and spittle making a mess of his once cleanly pristine visage. he knows he must look absolutely _pathetic,_ red-faced and drooling, letting gabriel do whatever he wants with him. the thought only makes his cunt throb harder, hot and persistent, somehow still aching with need despite being filled to the ends of its limits.

gabriel's hand pulls away, and he runs them both up under aziraphale's nightgown. reaching his chest, and squeezing with little restraint. his thumbs scrape over aziraphale's nipples, pinching the red, inflamed buds between his fingers. and aziraphale's cumming, he's cumming. finally, _finally_ cumming.

his hips startle upwards, the tug of gabriel's cock keeping him in place a harsh reminder of how little he can move like this. writhing uselessly, letting his feet kick, and hands fist the surplus sofa cushioning. gabriel carries him through his orgasm, into the slight tinges of overstimulation left to overlap with his own eventual climax.

groaning, the archangel falls forwards. exhausted beyond words, somehow feeling more tired than even aziraphale had been before.

"you're heavy," aziraphale giggles, poking at his sides. "and sweaty."

"is that really the nicest thing you can say to your partner, who, by the way--in case you just forgot--indulged you on your ultimate fetish?" gabriel teases him, still finding the wits to roll himself off of aziraphale. there's room enough on the sofa for the both of them, after all.

aziraphale winces at the word like he's just been slapped. "don't call it that! it's simply... a _preference_. a bit of tomfoolery, to get my mind in order, give me a chance not to think about anything."

"mmh? not anything but me, right?"

and aziraphale laughs again, rubbing his weary eyes as he speaks. "of course, dearest. i'm always thinking of you."

and, painfully saccharine as the admission might be, gabriel knows he's being truthful. the worst part being, unmistakably, that he feels quite the same way, and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

how lucky for him, that the object of his affection is just as eager to receive as gabriel is to give.


End file.
